


Parallel Drift

by Thia (Jennaria)



Series: IDP [4]
Category: Initial D
Genre: Incest, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-02
Updated: 2010-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-09 21:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennaria/pseuds/Thia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takumi races.  Keisuke raises the stakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parallel Drift

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up through Takumi's race with Impact Blue and the aftermath. Still 's fault. If you recognize bits of dialogue, this was written as close to the anime as I could manage, given :cough: certain changes. (On the other hand, I was working off a Hong Kong release, so those more familiar with the official American release might not recognize anything...)

"Hello. You've reached Ryousuke Takahashi. Please leave your message, and I will reply as soon as convenient." _Beep._

Dammit. "Hello, Ryousuke-san. This is Fujiwara Takumi. Um...you had asked me to tell you when I was going to race again. So I'm racing on Usui tonight." A moment's pause, then, "I'll call you afterwards." _Click._

*

"Hello. You've reached Ryousuke Takahashi. Please leave your message, and I will reply as soon as convenient." _Beep._

"Hello. It's Fujiwara Takumi again --"

"Fujiwara?"

"Ryousuke-san!" He'd intended to just leave another message: _I won, I'll call again as soon as I can._ Itsuki was laughing at something behind him.

"Are you still at Usui?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

Takumi felt himself flush, and kept his eyes fixed on the back of the telephone booth. "No," he said reluctantly. "We're with Mako-san and Sayuki-san. I think we're heading home soon." It wasn't enough. An hour and a half to get home, even if he didn't have to drop off Itsuki on the way. There wasn't enough _time_ to go to Akagi afterwards, not if he wanted to sleep at all tonight.

"'We'," Ryousuke repeated thoughtfully. "You're with your Speed Star friends?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. I see. Are you free tomorrow?"

"Not really. Sayuki-san invited all of us out to the water park tomorrow." Even if maybe she hadn't meant to make it general. He'd seen that look in another racer's eyes before, and heard that tone in their voice. If he'd been alone with her, the way he'd been with Keisuke...

"I see," Ryousuke said again, before Takumi could make himself even more nervous. "Which park? Yomiuri Land?"

"I think so."

"Good."

"Ryousuke-san --"

"Keisuke and I look forward to seeing you." Takumi could hear a smile in Ryousuke's voice. "Until tomorrow, Fujiwara."

Takumi opened his mouth to say, "Ryousuke-san!" again, but the dial tone was already buzzing in his ear. He hung up the phone and trudged back to his friends, who were still saying good-bye to Sayuki and Mako. At least Keisuke was straightforward. Between Sayuki and Ryousuke, tomorrow was going to be bad.

*

"It was a horror," Kenji-san said gloomily.

"Sempai?"

"Not completely," Kenji said, head swiveling to look over at Mako, who was still chatting with Iketani. "But that slide, going down it like that...you were lucky, going down with Sayuki-chan. I was stuck with Itsuki between my legs."

"You're one to talk," Itsuki protested, head popping up on the far side of a duck floaty thing. "There was _something_ poking me in the back when we went down. It's me who should be complaining. I feel dirtied."

"_You_ feel dirtied? Who would want someone like you? If you felt anything, it was because I was watching Sayuki-chan!"

"I see," Takumi murmured, not that either of them was listening to him any more. He felt vaguely dirty himself. Sayuki had a very nice body, with very nice full breasts. He couldn't help but notice, especially since she'd worn that tiny bikini, and kept finding excuses to press against him.

But he just wasn't interested in touching them, or licking them, or whatever you were supposed to do with breasts. He'd rather have something else, some_one_ else. Someone who hadn't waited for a date to just go for what he wanted.

His imagination promptly summoned the image of Keisuke in a swimsuit. He felt himself flushing again, and abruptly pushed himself up out of the water. Kenji and Itsuki stopped their argument to stare up at him, wide-eyed. "Is something wrong, Takumi?"

"No, no, nothing," Takumi protested quickly. "I'm just going to get ice cream."

"Get me something!"

"Oi, I'm not made of money," Takumi said, and hurried towards the line at the ice cream counter before anyone could call him back.

He'd nearly reached the counter, and was debating whether to stick with his usual vanilla or try something like green tea, when a familiar voice said from beside him, "Keisuke enjoys the chocolate here."

"Ryousuke-san." Wearing only a swimsuit, like Takumi himself. Takumi looked back at the list of ice cream flavors, and tried very hard to think about something else. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Ryousuke smiled, just a small curve of his lips and gleam in his eye. It made Takumi nervous. "Did you expect Keisuke?"

"I didn't expect _either_ of you!"

The gleam softened, and Ryousuke opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else.

"Takumi!" Itsuki came running up as fast as he could. "I think I found my money, so -- eh?" He blinked at Ryousuke, then at Takumi.

This was why he had hoped the Takahashi brothers wouldn't come. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"N-no," Itsuki said weakly. "I -- you --"

"Did you find him?" Sayuki appeared, much more sedately, followed by Kenji. "Ooo, ice cre -- Takahashi-san!"

"Can I help you?" the lady behind the counter said, politely ignoring the sudden small crowd in front of her stand, and Takumi moved forward

As the lady scooped his ice cream ("vanilla, thank you"), Takumi tried to pretend he wasn't listening to the conversation behind him. It wasn't much of a conversation. Itsuki and Kenji were apparently tongue-tied, and even Sayuki was stumbling over her words. "I'm sorry, Takahashi-san. I didn't mean to intrude--"

"Of course not," Ryousuke said, very politely. "This place had been recommended to me. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one enjoying it."

"No," Itsuki blurted out. "It's a lot of fun. We've, um...ow." Either Kenji or Sayuki must have punched him. Probably Kenji.

Takumi paid the lady, just as Ryousuke said, still very polite, "Excellent. If you will excuse me." Takumi turned around to find Ryousuke looking at him. "Fujiwara?"

"Yes," Takumi said, and followed Ryousuke off to the shade beyond the ice cream cart, trying to ignore the stares he could almost feel as he balanced the cone in one hand.

When Ryousuke stopped, he didn't look back at Takumi. "What time do you leave?"

"By 3 PM." The manager was willing to let Takumi and Iketani off, but Itsuki had to be back for the evening shift. Takumi had heard Sayuki muttering something to Mako about sunburn, too.

"Ah," Ryousuke said, and finally turned to meet Takumi's eyes. "When you return, do you know the way?"

To their house? Takumi thought for a minute. He'd been distracted the last time he'd been there, but not enough to forget to watch the roads. "Mostly," he said, and let his gaze drop to Ryousuke's mouth.

It curved into a smile -- a real smile, not that unnerving curve from earlier. "We'll be waiting." The backs of his fingers brushed against Takumi's hand, not quite accidentally, and he walked off toward the slide, as if he really was here just to enjoy the water.

Takumi watched him go. Much better than breasts, he thought, and then jumped and swore as something cold landed on his foot. He looked down, and swore again, slightly louder. His ice cream had fallen off the cone.

*

"That was amazing!"

"Mmm, yes," Kenji agreed dreamily. "Sayuki-chan in her bikini --"

"I am going to be dreaming about that tonight!" Itsuki said, bouncing in his seat. "And so will Takumi, I bet, eh?" He tried to elbow Takumi in the ribs, and missed, though not by much.

"He might have better things to dream about," Kenji said, catching Takumi's eye in the rear-view mirror. "What with Ryousuke Takahashi wanting to talk to him. You'd better not leave us for the Red Suns!"

"I wouldn't do that," Takumi muttered.

"What _did_ he want?" Itsuki demanded, then without waiting for an answer, "He probably wants revenge for how Takumi beat his little brother! O-ho, that'll be a race for the ages!"

"That's not it at all!"

"He _didn't_ give you a challenge?"

Takumi rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "He didn't say anything about a challenge." Not _that_ kind of challenge, anyway.

Itsuki opened his mouth like he was about to yell, but before he could start, Kenji said firmly, "He's just biding his time. He's been watching Takumi this entire summer -- remember the battle with Nakazato, when he followed them down?"

"Oooo, yes," Itsuki said, flopping back into his seat. "He must've heard about yesterday's battle, and been there to confirm it. Don't you think so, Iketani-sempai?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Iketani said, "Um. Yeah." He sounded flat and unenthusiastic.

"What's wrong?" Kenji asked. "Did you fight with Mako?"

"No."

"Ch' -- no need to snap at me!"

"He's just distracted," Itsuki said dreamily. "If I had a pretty girl like Mako, I'd rather think about her too."

Takumi went back to looking out the window. Whatever was wrong with Iketani, it wasn't slowing his driving. They'd be back in plenty of time for him to eat dinner with the old man before going to Akagi. To the Takahashis.

*

"Hello. You've reached Ryousuke Takahashi. Please leave your message, and I will reply as soon as convenient." _Beep._

"It's Fujiwara Takumi. You asked..." He hesitated for half a second. Then, firmly, "I'm on my way."

*

It took less time than Takumi had estimated to get there -- not the driving, so much, as that he'd come out from leaving his message for Ryousuke and nearly gotten hit between the eyes with the keys to the 86. He'd caught them, barely, and blinked at his father, who was still reading the paper as if he hadn't just thrown car keys at his son.

"I'm not going anywhere tonight. Just make sure to fill her up before tomorrow's delivery. And be careful!"

"I _am_ careful," Takumi protested automatically, and left.

When he arrived, both the FD and the FC were parked in the driveway. He parked the 86 a few feet down from them, then rang the doorbell and waited. After a minute, Keisuke opened the door. "Fujiwara?"

"I'm sorry, am I early?"

"Nah," Keisuke said, stepping back from the door to let Takumi in. "Aniki didn't tell me when you were coming, that's all. He's upstairs, building simulations."

"Simulations?"

"Course simulations." Keisuke led the way into the living room, where a television flickered unheeded. "If you hadn't come over, we'd be out on Akagi testing them now."

"I'm sorry --"

Keisuke waved off Takumi's confused apology as he sat down on the cushions. "It's okay. It won't hurt to wait. The only battle coming up soon is mine against Nakazato next week, and I know what I need to do for that. Until then, it's just practice."

"You don't enjoy practice?" Takumi settled next to Keisuke. Did driving get to be a chore even for racers?

"Sometimes," Keisuke said, shrugging. One hand came to rest on the back of Takumi's neck, sending prickles down his spine. "Sometimes it's like I'm learning to fly. But sometimes, something gets into aniki, and he leaves me behind."

Takumi remembered the way Iketani had first described them: Takahashi Ryousuke, the genius, the White Comet, and Takahashi Keisuke, who might someday equal his brother. But Keisuke didn't look upset, just distant, as if he'd been given another goal. "Does he always practice with you?"

"When we can," Keisuke said with a shrug. "He's in medical school, so we work around his schedule, unless he has an idea he wants to test right away." He smiled suddenly, eyes focused back on Takumi again, and brushed Takumi's hair back out of his face. His touch lingered along Takumi's jaw. "It's not often I find something first."

"Hey!"

It wasn't much of a protest, and Keisuke ignored it, leaning forward to steal a slow, lazy kiss. Takumi didn't bother objecting again. This was why he'd come, anyway.

Finally Keisuke trailed off into a soft series of not-quite kisses, and finally sat back against the couch arm. "How was the race?"

"Different."

Keisuke's eyes narrowed. "You won?"

"Yes." He'd told Ryousuke so last night.

Keisuke relaxed again. "Good. You're still not allowed to lose except to one of us."

Takumi mmm'd. Keisuke was waiting, as if he expected Takumi to start describing the race, but he wasn't sure he had the right words. Worse, his skin felt almost itchy with an odd restlessness. Sayuki's blatant flirtations, Ryousuke purring in his ear, the promise of Keisuke's tongue in his mouth -- no, farther back: he'd felt this starting when he got out of the car on Usui, and looked down the pass, and imagined driving it.

"Takumi?"

Takumi blinked, and looked up, and realized he'd been staring at Keisuke's mouth. Keisuke was smiling again, that warm, almost triumphant smile. He reached up and tugged at Takumi's arms, pulling Takumi down so he was sprawled half on top of him, then kissed him again.

It wasn't lazy any more. Takumi settled into the kiss, letting himself grind his hips down against Keisuke's. Keisuke wasn't playing around either, one hand sliding down Takumi's back to tease along the back of his jeans.

The sound of a car door closing, somewhere outside in the distance, jarred Takumi back to reality. He'd almost forgotten Ryousuke. Worse, he'd almost forgotten where they were.

It didn't matter, he thought, breath catching as Keisuke's fingers slid under the waistband of his jeans. The living room was less public than the parking lot had been, and whatever Keisuke did, it would be good. Quick, the way both of them were going, but good.

No. He didn't want to settle for something quick. He nipped Keisuke's neck, and said quietly, "Ryousuke-san?"

"Upstairs." Keisuke sounded as breathless as Takumi felt. Then his hand tightened on Takumi's waist for a second, before letting go completely as he muttered something obscene. "Right. He's upstairs. Give him a couple minutes."

"I will," Takumi said, and sat back cautiously, legs folded under him. Ryousuke wasn't the only one who needed a couple minutes. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." Keisuke carefully pulled himself upright. He looked half debauched already, shirt pulled askew, lips reddened and swollen, eyes golden-hot. "If he's not down soon, we'll go up." One more kiss, too quick and light to be even a tease. Keisuke chuckled at the glare Takumi gave him. "It was you distracting him earlier."

"The water-park wasn't my idea," Takumi protested. "Mako-san and Sayuki-san asked us there."

"You have girlfriends?" Keisuke's eyes were narrowed again.

"I'm not dating _anyone_," Takumi said, then added thoughtfully, "Unless _you_ count. Or maybe Mogi. But she says that's just to keep anyone from guessing I like boys...oi, it's not funny!"

Keisuke didn't quite swallow his laughter, but he did lie back against the couch arm again, grinning up at Takumi. "Then who are Mako-chan and Sayuki-chan?"

"The girls I raced last night," Takumi told him.

"They're the fastest on Usui? What car?"

"Um..." A blue Nissan, but that wasn't what Keisuke was asking. How had Iketani described it? "Sil-eighty."

Keisuke made a thoughtful noise. Takumi frowned down at him. Keisuke might say that Ryousuke was the genius, but he was pretty sure Keisuke watched potential rivals just as closely. "Have you been to Usui?"

"No, not yet," Keisuke said with a shrug. "How did you wind up there?"

Takumi hesitated a moment, but only a moment. Keisuke-san wasn't Kenji-sempai, in a lot more ways than just driving skill. "Because of Iketani-sempai."

Keisuke sat up abruptly. "He's setting you up on these races?"

"No, no! It wasn't like that! Mako-san asked for it!"

"What?"

Takumi took a deep breath, and as clearly as he could, explained what happened. Iketani coming back to the gas station with a story about a chance meeting. Going along with the other two to see if Iketani's date was real. Sato Mako, the pretty girl that none of them could quite believe was really going out with _Iketani_, of all people.

Going to the mountain that evening, just to see what the local racers were like. The blue Sil-eighty, "fastest on Usui." The brief, humiliating meeting, where they realized who the driver of that Sil-eighty was.

Mako's request: that she was going to retire, and wanted her last race to be against the undefeated Ghost 86 of Akina.

"Che," Keisuke muttered. "Did he believe her?"

"I don't know. It didn't matter. I didn't accept because of her."

Keisuke smiled at that, and if he looked a little smug, he probably had the right. "You wouldn't," he agreed, and ran one finger down the center of Takumi's chest to rest over the erection that refused to completely subside.

That wasn't why, and Keisuke knew it. But Takumi leaned down and kissed him again anyway. Keisuke kissed him back as enthusiastically as before, coaxing Takumi back down on top of him with a gentle tug here and push there.

"Keisuke?"

Takumi broke the kiss, closing his eyes resignedly. So much for not forgetting Ryousuke -- or where they were. He could hear Keisuke's soft laugh in his ear, and Ryousuke's footsteps approaching. There was what felt like a long silence, then Ryousuke said, "Ah."

"Hey, aniki," Keisuke said.

"I _thought_ you were being very patient."

"I know what you're like. And Fujiwara was being polite."

"Mmm." Fingers brushed through Takumi's hair, then latched on and tugged gently. "Come upstairs, Fujiwara. And stop being polite."

"You two make no sense," Takumi muttered. But he sat up, letting Keisuke shift out from under him, and followed him out of the living room.

He'd expected that they would go to Ryousuke's room, the way they had last time. Instead, Keisuke grabbed his wrist somewhere along the line, maybe on the stairs, and tugged him along down the hall to a different room. It didn't have a balcony, or a computer humming on a desktop: instead there were a couple posters, a few scattered magazines (mostly car-related, from what Takumi could see), and a sprawling futon with sheets and blankets folded back.

"Now, then," Keisuke said. He didn't bother to sit down on the futon: instead, he leaned against the wall and nuzzled Takumi's hand before letting it go, watching Takumi with glittering eyes. "Where were we?"

They could've been back in the parking lot after all: it was the same challenging look. Except this was more private than the parking lot, and more comfortable.

_Stop being polite._

Ryousuke wouldn't just flirt. If he wanted to touch, he'd touch. No more waiting. "Here, I think," Takumi said, and slid his hands under Keisuke's shirt.

Keisuke raised his arms to let Takumi pull it off over his head, but he didn't attack Takumi's shirt in turn. It was Takumi himself who finally stripped it off, and Keisuke's slacks. Keisuke pulled him down onto the futon then, and sat back, drawing off Takumi's jeans as slow as if he'd never seen anything like this before. Or as if he was nervous.

Takumi kicked one foot freet, and Keisuke promptly pulled the other leg off, tossing the jeans off to one side. He still lingered there, tracing tantalizing patterns up Takumi's legs that didn't help the restlessness at all. He was watching Takumi intently, as if he expected a reaction.

_As if he was following me down a new course,_ Takumi thought hazily, not even trying to fight the moan as Keisuke licked his hip. But that didn't make sense. This wasn't the first time Keisuke had touched him, not even close.

"Here."

Ryousuke -- who'd been far too quiet. Had he even been in the room? When had he come in? Keisuke must have known where Ryousuke was, because he didn't jump at the sound of his brother's voice. He only nodded and took whatever his brother was handing to him, popped it open, and squirted it out on his fingers. Lube, Takumi realized. Ryousuke had gone to get lube, so that Keisuke --

One slippery finger pressed against his ass. Takumi took a deep breath and let it out carefully, trying to relax against the pressure as the finger slipped inside. Keisuke was frowning absently, eyes fixed on Takumi's face. "Tell me if this hurts."

"Of course," Takumi said. It didn't, at least not yet. Mostly it just felt odd, mixed with a sparking awareness of _why_ Keisuke was almost nervous, what he wanted to do. With Takumi. "But I thought --" He looked up, at Ryousuke standing by the edge of the futon, watching them both. "You and Ryousuke-san --"

"Not like this," Keisuke said absently. Two fingers, and the oddness hadn't gone away. But Keisuke's other hand was warm and slick around him, moving with the rhythm of Takumi's involuntary little thrusts, so it somehow wasn't important. "Aniki fucks me, yes." One more finger, moving in and out in silent promise of more. "I haven't fucked him."

"When you beat me in a battle," Ryousuke murmured. He'd knelt down on the futon, so close Takumi could touch him. The words sounded like ritual, or promise, or maybe both.

"I know," Keisuke said, but he sounded preoccupied as he withdrew his fingers from Takumi. Takumi opened his eyes, and watched Keisuke squeeze out too much lube onto his hand, then slick his cock rapidly and move back between Takumi's legs, pushing them up to rest on his hips. He met Takumi's look: not preoccupied, or absent, not any more. Only anticipation. "It's okay, Takumi. Just telling you that you're not the only virgin." And he pushed inside.

Takumi's hand curled into a fist. It hurt, oh fuck, it hurt this time, even with Keisuke going slow. Didn't matter. He wanted this. The burning ache was already subsiding, mingling with the feel of Keisuke as he started moving in and out of him, and the unnerving jolt of sensation right _there_. His hand slowly relaxed again.

"Takumi."

"Mmm." Takumi shifted a bit, and caught his breath on a surprised groan. Like _that_.

Keisuke thrust again, and this time Takumi didn't try to stifle his reaction. Keisuke's grin widened into something like a laugh. "Good," he said, then, as Takumi ground up into his thrust, "oh, yes, so good...knew it, knew _you_ \--"

It _was_ good. It was awkward, and it still sort of hurt, and if Keisuke tried to stop then Takumi was going to punch him.

Then Keisuke slowed down again, and without looking up, said, "Aniki."

"Yes, Keisuke?"

Takumi had almost forgotten Ryousuke was there. He turned his head. Ryousuke still sat on the edge of the futon, shirt hanging unbuttoned, slacks kicked off. As Takumi watched, one hand continued to move up and down his cock.

Keisuke's hand caught Takumi by the wrist, and squeezed once, as if in warning. "Can you turn over?" Keisuke murmured in his ear.

At Takumi's slightly confused nod, Keisuke pulled out of him entirely and sat back on his heels. "Ryousuke," he said. "Come join us." His look at Takumi said, _now._

Takumi moved, and caught Ryousuke's eye as he did so -- not the cool, controlled look of before, but a softer, hungry look. He didn't look away as Takumi settled onto his stomach. Following, Takumi thought, so much as he could think with his head full of _stop teasing him and get back to fucking me_: Keisuke was choosing the line, and Ryousuke was following and watching the race from just behind.

Holding back. Waiting.

Keisuke slid back into him, finally. Ryousuke's free hand twitched at Takumi's gasp, but he didn't move, even when Keisuke groaned his name.

Takumi reached out blindly and grabbed for Ryousuke. He caught his thigh, and felt the muscle tense up. Not good enough. He turned his head a little more, sliding his hand up Ryousuke's thigh to slide his fingers up over Ryousuke's cock, Ryousuke's hand around his cock. "Ryousuke-san."

Ryousuke let out a soft breath, and nodded sharply. Keisuke kissed the back of Takumi's neck -- Takumi could feel the grin against his skin -- and then pulled him back so he was half sitting on Keisuke's lap, driving Keisuke even deeper inside, as Ryousuke shifted over to lie against the pillows, sprawled out like a challenge for Takumi to taste.

Good enough. Almost too much, trying to not to lose himself between them. Keisuke's thick cock moving in and out of him, faster now, so close to enough but not quite. Ryousuke's cock in his mouth, one hand tangled in Takumi's hair, voice hitching at Takumi's stifled moans. Keisuke's hand around Takumi's own cock, tight and sure and never stopping.

Keisuke came first, with his hand tightening on Takumi's hip and a harsh whisper of Takumi's name. He didn't pull out immediately: instead, his other hand kept moving on Takumi's cock, hard and fast, until Takumi muffled his own helpless groan, fisting his hands in the sheets to keep from biting down.

He stayed still as Keisuke carefully pulled out, then bent his head back down to lick his way up Ryousuke's cock again. A nudge made him shift over a bit, as Keisuke settled next to him, leaning over to steal a kiss before joining Takumi in tongue and mouth and hand and cock. Ryousuke didn't last much longer: he came in spurts over Keisuke's hand and Takumi's cheek.

Takumi reached up and wiped it off, trying to ignore Keisuke's not-entirely-stifled laughter. Ryousuke was smiling, too, which didn't help.

"There's damp cloths there," Ryousuke said, as if in apology. "The water should still be warm."

"Thank you," Keisuke said. "Fujiwara --"

"I'm fine."

"I'm glad of it. But you need these more than I do."

"I --" His protests were forestalled by Ryousuke handing one of the cloths to his brother, who began to gently wash up between Takumi's thighs. Takumi felt himself flush bright embarassed red, and fell over onto his back, thumping his head back against the futon. "I could do that myself," he said to the ceiling.

"But you don't have to," Ryousuke told him, and smoothed another cloth over his face.

Takumi rolled his eyes, but submitted to being washed. It was soothing, even if it made him feel like they were treating him like a kid. Well, sort of. Unless he thought about what they were cleaning, and why, and whether it meant they might do it again. Not right away, though. Ow.

"You told me why you raced," Keisuke said suddenly, handing his cloth back to Ryousuke. "How did the race itself go?"

Quickly. They'd been fast, fast enough that he'd started to doubt whether he'd been right that anything they could do, so could he. Maybe Iketani and the others were right when they talked about how some cars just couldn't keep up with others. Or maybe it was just the course itself, something about Usui.

"Fujiwara?" Keisuke had settled down next to him, head pillowed on Takumi's shoulder, while Ryousuke lounged on his other side.

"I don't know," Takumi said belatedly. "It wasn't like any battle I'd been in before. It took me a long time to find my rhythm." He wasn't sure he really had, even by the end. They spun out and he didn't, but that didn't prove anything about rhythm.

Ryousuke frowned at nothing in particular. Keisuke shifted, as if looking at his brother, and said, "Hey, aniki, do you know anyone on Usui?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"You could find out for yourself," Takumi said quietly.

"Usui is too far away for my usual purposes," Ryousuke said, with a shake of his head. Then he looked back down at Takumi, eyes sharp. "Or did you intend a challenge?"

"I thought I was answering _your_ challenge," Takumi said. His pulse was speeding up a little.

Keisuke smiled, something Takumi could feel against his shoulder more than see, and said, "I think he's right, aniki."

"I hadn't asked."

"You followed me when I was racing Nakazato-san," Takumi pointed out. "And if you just wanted me to be safe, you wouldn't be asking these kind of questions."

"Told you," Keisuke murmured.

"You shouldn't be so smug," Ryousuke said, though he didn't sound angry. He leaned over and kissed Takumi, not a challenge at all, but lazy enjoyment. "If you want a challenge, Fujiwara, then I won't disappoint you. I'll send it to the gas station. Soon."

"Nothing I have to explain to my sempai, please!"

Ryousuke only chuckled, and settled next to him, as if to nap. "Don't worry. They see what they want to see."

He should probably defend his friends. But it didn't seem that important right then, half-asleep between Keisuke and Ryousuke. There was time enough later -- especially if Ryousuke was wrong.

-end-


End file.
